


Space Bros

by TeamThor



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hair Braiding, Light Angst, M/M, Male Friendship, Peter Quill is a Good Bro, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Smart Hulk (Marvel), Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 21:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20297950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamThor/pseuds/TeamThor
Summary: Thor is worried about seeing Bruce again after his 2 year trip with the guardians. Luckily, Quill knows just what to do.





	Space Bros

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this fic took so long, but here it is! It's highly inspired by that video of chris pratt braiding that interns hair, as well as my own wishes for thor and quill to be bros   
anyways, enjoy!  
once again this is also on my tumblr @teamthorsblog

"No, one of us has to do something. This has gone too far already." 

"I don't see what the problem is. The Angel-God should be able to wear what he likes."

"Drax, you haven't worn a shirt in...any of the time I've known you. Forgive me if I don't take your sense of style too seriously."

"For someone who can't even reach the table, you-"

Quill leaned against the doorway, watching as the 'friendly debate' between Drax and Rocket once again got out of hand. That seemed to be happening a lot recently. Well, he supposed they'd always been a bit like that. And that was what he liked about them, really. Sure, the Avengers were great and all, but they were just so...serious. Serious about their friendships, their battle plans - it was all a bit of a bummer to witness. Which was partly the reason why he'd been so opposed to having Thor join them in the first place. When they'd first met him, he'd been a serious mood killer. Tall, dark, handsome, and an all round axe-wielding angst machine that made his team go crazy. 

And then the blip happened, and suddenly that guy was gone. To where, Quill didn't exactly know. All he did understand was that somewhere between then and now, all of the anger and pain that Mantis had first witnessed had been shoved somewhere deep under the surface of the Asgardians (he refused to call him a god. Or even a demi-god) skin. 

If he was being honest the whole 'missing 5 years of his life' thing was still freaking him out. He'd been dead for five years. Rocket had mourned for him, for the whole damn team, for five years. And then all of a sudden he was running out of a portal shooting weird space-creatures, and he was just supposed to deal with all that?   
Things were stressful, and all he'd really wanted to do was go to space, play his tapes, and pretend not to notice the way Rocket stared at them all- like he wasn't sure if they were even real. 

But then Thor had asked to stay. He'd asked to come with them, just for a little while, and what was he supposed to do? Say no?   
He may have had his disagreements with Thor in the 20 minutes he'd known him, but that was the old Thor. The frankly kind of scary one. This one, with the longer hair and the wild beard and the laughter that seemed just a bit too close to crying - Quill could handle this one. He could understand him, tolerate him, maybe. 

And with their travels of course had come a bit of bonding, no matter how Quill had tried to prevent it. Thor was a likeable guy, with no shortage of crazy stories to tell. Granted, Quill had tuned out at first. Combat stories were all well and good, but when you'd fought a planet who happened to also be your dad, other things started to fall a little flat.   
But then, Thor had started talking about love.   
About a scientist with curly hair and brown eyes, and a giant with green skin and a crooked smile, and that had got Quill's attention. He'd never been to Asgard - the Ravagers had scared him away from that golden fortress with tales of security systems that seemed straight out of Quill's own personal nightmares - but even just listening to the man talk about love was like getting smacked in the face with a Shakespearean sonnet. 

Quill got that. He got love that was so intense it made your heart want to explode out of your chest. It was kind of devious, really. Thor had roped him into conversations and now dared to use his charm on him? To win him into a friendship?   
Disgusting. Illegal. Quill would've challenged him to a laser-gun based duel if Thor wasn't the only person on the spaceship who would high five him no matter the occasion. 

But then the eventual day had come where Thor had decided to leave them. To go back home and check on New Asgard, and most importantly to see Bruce. Thor had said "For the first time in about 3 years!" With a sense of levity, and for the most part he'd been happy for him. 

And then Groot had asked what Thor was planning to wear for a 3 year space reunion. 

And then all hell had broken loose. 

All because Thor had gestured to a pair of sweatpants and a jumper and said the fateful words, "these are fine". 

"Listen, I've met his Bruce, alright? Dude wears button up shirts and cardigans. That's code for being a big green fancy man." Rocket shook his head, clawing his way back onto the table to poke Drax in the chest.   
"That means no sweatpants."

"He's a god!" Drax retorted, twirling a knife in hand which Quill was really hoping he wasn't planning to use. "If I had a lover capable of tearing apart spaceships, I would bed him regardless of pants!"

"Oh my God, we get it Drax. You're horny for Thor."

Quill rolled his eyes, failing to hide the fond smile that was creeping over his face. Honestly - he'd truly picked some of the weirdest people in the galaxy to share his life with. 

But he wouldn't have it any other way. 

Maybe they'd never really admit to him being their captain, or see him as their leader. At least, not in the way the Avengers saw that dude in the spangly outfit. But maybe being the captain was more than that.   
Maybe being the captain was loving his team, as cheesy as it sounded, even with all their weirdness. 

Being the captain meant taking care of his crew. And with his eyes drifting away from the table, and down to the darkened hull of the ship, Quill began to suspect that there might be someone else that needed taking care of. 

He pushed away from the wall with perhaps a little more speed than he needed to (in all honesty it was more to avoid Drax's next weird sex anecdote than with any urgency regarding their resident Thunder Dude, but no one else needed to know that), walking along the various rooms to get to Thor's bunk. Prior to the asgardians arrival that room had been the designated 'Random Garbage' room, and had become the largest victim of Rocket's serious weapon-hoarding problem. It had taken a whole week, and several close calls regarding bomb explosions to clear the place out, and even longer to procure a bed suitable for someone who could summon lightning at will, and who was one bad dream away from conjuring a hurricane. 

He knocked on the door, casting his eyes over the Nordic runes that had been painted over it with a crooked grin. Thor had spent a decent amount of time teaching the guardians Asgardian, more specifically, Asgardian curse words. Not a mission went past now that wasn't littered with words that would make the Allfather blush, and the not-so-subtle warning to 'Keep Out' that was posted over Thor's door was no exception. 

"Just a minute!" 

There was the sound of something smashing from behind the door, and the thud of footfalls followed until the metal panel was thrown open with a clang that made Quill wince - the Asgardian's slightly flushed face staring back at him. 

"Oh, hello."   
Thor's face brightened in something close to surprise, as if Quill was a neighbour who'd popped round for a quick chat.   
"Did you need something, Quill? I was just packing." 

"Thought you might need some help."   
He grinned back, peeking his head through the door at the chaos inside. Clothes were strewn over chairs and tables, random axes and swords piled precariously onto any surface that could handle them. And some that definitely couldn't. 

"Ah, yes. That would be...appreciated." 

The Demigod clapped Quill on the shoulder in a brief show of thanks, guiding him forward into the war zone he'd created within the span of half an hour. 

"I must apologise for the mess. Had a bit of trouble trying to find clean clothes."

"Yeah, join the club, pal." He shook his head, nudging through a pile with his feet. "Spaceship living. Hard on the laundry, harder on the privacy." 

Thor chucked from across the room, pacing about what little free floor remained as he watched Quill attempt to navigate through it. 

Now, Quill was no stranger to mess. His spaceship was frequently labeled as a blatant violation of any and all safety protocols that existed for rag-tag groups of space bandits (which, surprisingly, there were quite a few of). But something about this mess seemed...off. Clothes had been strewn about, not by laziness or necessity, but what looked like anger. And there were a few still sparking holes in the walls that were definitely made from fists. 

"You uh…" Quill rubbed at the back of his head, trying to think of the right words to say to get to the bottom of this. "You excited about going back?" 

"Hm?" Thor glanced up, brows furrowing as he mulled over the answer. "Well, of course. It's been a while since I've seen everyone. It'll be nice to catch up."

"You're not nervous?" 

"Nervous? Why would I be nervous?" 

Quill shrugged, lifting up a shirt that was still glowing red with embers before dropping it with a hissed curse.   
"Just seems like you're a bit freaked out about it, is all. Which is understandable, I mean. I'd probably be freaked out too."

"I'm not nervous." Thor's frown deepened considerably, a few stray sparks flying from his fingertips. "I'm...excited. Excited, happy, very happy to see them all again. Not nervous. That'd be stupid."

"Not even about seeing Bruce?" 

A pause followed before Thor's next answer, and for a moment Quill was worried he'd crossed a line. The dark shadow that crossed the demigods face was a sharp reminder of the Thor they'd first picked up all those years ago - the sad one, the furious one. The broken one. 

"I don't -" Thor began, his voice breaking off into silence. He lifted a hand to his mouth, shutting his eyes briefly against what quill was sure we're tears, allowing the tremor in his voice to settle before continuing.   
"I don't know if I can face him like this, Quill."

"Wait, like what?"

"Like this. This, all of this!"

Thor gestured to himself, his face set into a deep scowl as his hands clawed at his clothes, his hair - all with a ferocity that made Quill grimace in sympathy.   
He didn't quite know how to handle this, and he was honestly a little nervous to even try. Petty arguments between friends, he could stand. Friendly touches and comforts were things that he could easily dispense, if he needed to. 

If Rocket was angry, he'd want to be left to cool off with a handful of machinery and some light music. If Mantis was sad, she'd want a hug, and something funny to make her laugh. If Gamora, or Drax, or Groot, or any one of his team members needed something, he knew what it was, and when to provide it.   
But Thor was new. Even after 2 years, he was new. 

He'd been about to open his mouth to offer him some privacy when Thor interrupted, his voice low and just so tired. 

"I only went to space to get better. I was supposed to be happy again, and I'm just...not. Coming back like this? Without changing anything about myself? It feels like I've failed him, and I promised myself I was done with failure." 

The clenched fists and hunched shoulders really weren't giving Quill much to go on comfort-wise, but he was done with standing awkwardly at the sidelines. It was time to be the captain.   
Awkwardly stepping over the various piles of junk, Quill finally arrived at the demi-gods side, planting a firm hand onto his shoulder. 

"Look, I don't know Bruce. Never met the guy, and I don't fancy going back to earth anytime soon so I doubt I ever will. All I've got on him is what you've told me." 

And jesus, had he been told a lot. He thought back on it - on the descriptions of a smile that was rare but so, so bright. Of restless hands constantly moving from experiment to experiment, yet still always managed to find time to hold Thor when he needed it. Of someone who seemed delicate, but really was as tough as they came, who'd been through so much in such a short time but still dedicated every minute of his life to helping others.   
Thor had painted a picture of a scientist, and a giant, who loved with as much fire and splendor as a collapsing star. 

Quill smiled softly, tightening his hold in what he hoped was a comforting squeeze, but honestly Thor's skin could take a bullet and barely even bruise so he wasn't sure if he'd even felt it. 

"The only way you'd be failing him is if you didn't come back at all."

Thor sniffed, and Quill's brain was screaming at him for a solid 5 second interval that 'you just made the God of Thunder cry, Quill. What the hell is wrong with you, Quill. You walk in to help him clear up his room and within the span of 5 minutes he's started sobbing and you're considering throwing yourself out of the airlock, Quill.'  
But then he caught a small smile, shaky and ever so slightly water-logged, but present, and he allowed himself to breathe. 

Thor straightened his back, wiping at the sides of his eyes and trying his very best to drown out the crying with a Manly Cough.   
It didn't really work, but Quill had enough sense in his brain to ignore that part, and forge forward with his role as emotional support captain. 

"But, I think the rest of the team would kill me if I let you go out without sprucing up your image a little bit."

Thor raised an eyebrow, folding his arms protectively across his chest.   
"Did you have something in mind?" 

"Well…" 

**

20 minutes later, Quill was perched on the edge of the bed, brows screwed tightly together in concentration as he stared at the copious amounts of blonde hair currently tangled in his fingers.   
He'd learned many skills as a Ravager. Breaking into vaults, impeccable aim with his blasters, and somewhere along the line a particularly long-haired ravager had taught him the art of braiding. He hadn't used that skill in a long time, at least before the guardians had come along. Now it seemed every evening he was braiding back Mantis's hair, and if he was being honest, he was getting pretty good at it. 

A small chuckle from Thor as he looked in the mirror confirmed his suspicions, and gave him a well needed ego boost. 

"This might be the peak of my career, dude." Quill leaned back, pulling at a couple of loose strands, earning him a warning crackle of lightning from the asgardians fingers.   
"Seriously. Should I become a barber?"

"I think guarding the galaxy is a somewhat higher priority than hair styling."

"Nah. This is way better. I feel like picasso after finishing the Mona Lisa."

"What?" Thor turned slightly, prompting Quill to swat at his shoulder as he tied the final few strands into place. 

"I don't know, I only got an 8th grade education. Leave me alone."   
Quill brushed his hands against his knees, admiring his now finished handiwork with a proud grin.   
"You do look kickass, though."

"Agreed."  
Thor twisted this way and that in front of the mirror, fingers tracing their way along the length of the braid that just brushed his shoulder blades.   
He got to his feet, turning slightly to place his hands onto Quill's shoulders in a sudden movement that made a rather undignified noise come out of his mouth. 

"Uh-" Quill's brain short circuited for a moment, trying to come up with some snarky response and drastically failing to do so.   
"What are we doing?"

"When I first got here, we didn't get along too well. And that was partly my fault - I think I came across as a little intimidating." 

"Oookay…"

"Which is ridiculous. You should value yourself more, Quill." Thor smiled, moving to pull Quill into what would go down in history as his most awkward, yet somehow most comforting hug he'd ever had.   
"Your talents are varied and I am in no competition with you. You're a good man. And I thank you for your hospitality these past few years."

"O-oh."  
Quill managed to stutter through, kicking his brain hard enough to get it to respond in at least some meaningful way, even if that was just reaching up to pat Thor on the shoulders before the two broke apart again.   
"It's...it's no problem. You know you're always welcome here. Even if you make the team go a little crazy." 

Thor laughed at that, reaching up to scratch at his beard slightly, his eyes once again turning back to the mirror beside them. 

"It does look nice." 

"Yeah." Quill nodded, reaching forward to brush an imperceptible smudge of dirt from their resident god's shoulder.   
"It does." 

**

"Y'know, I'm gonna miss having Blondie around." Rocket hopped up onto Quill's shoulder, watching from the viewing window as a large green gentleman lifted Thor clean off the ground, swinging him in a circle as the two clung together.   
"Where else am I gonna find enough electricity to power all of my stuff?"

"I'm sure we'll be seeing him again soon." 

"We better. Some of this stuff is seriously unstable."

"Rocket." 

"I mean, seriously. Like world ending." 

"Oh my God."


End file.
